A Date with Mischief (Loki x Reader)

Ch 4. Small Thoughts

I sat in my room alone, barely comprehending Odin's words. What if Heimdall was dead? What if they never found the sword? True, I may not have had family to go back home to, but it was still home.

I leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. I began taking deep breaths, and kept my thoughts as short as possible. It was better to not overcomplicate things. I don't know for how long I sat there like that until there was a knock on the door. I sat up.

"Come in," I called. The door opened and Thor stepped in.

"Dinner is ready, if you feel alright enough to join. Father says you are more than welcome to sit with us."

I didn't say anything for a moment, then I stood and took a step towards him, giving him a quiet 'okay'. He smiled, and offered me his arm again. I took it, and marvelled at the fact the chivalry indeed wasn't dead. .

He led me to the dining room I passed through earlier, this time filled with life and boisterous, despite the recent attack. Seeing all these people made my heart flutter with anxiety and my palms sweat. Thor paused and cleared his throat. I cringed, expecting him to make a spectacle of me.

"Friends, this is (y/n), she will be staying with us for a while, so do be on your best behaviour." I gave a small smile and an even smaller 'hello'. I wasn't in the mood for talking. Thor led me to the table and pulled a seat out for me, taking the one on my left. On my right sat a woman, probably more beautiful than most from Hollywood.

She nudged me in the arm. "My name is Sif, and I'd advise you to get food onto your plate quickly before Volstaag over there eats it all,"

"Oi! In case you hadn't noticed, other people are eating, it's not just me!" retorted a man from across the table. He was large, with a big gut and a long red beard. He reminded me of Gimli from Lord of the Rings.to be honest.

Sif and Volstaag began bickering, earning laughs and comments from around the table. I knew what Sif had done. She had taken the tables attention away from me and directed it towards Volstaag, for which I was extremely grateful. Talk at the table was merry, and I smiled every so often.

Odin's wife was there, a pleasant looking older woman with soft eyes. Her name was Friga. She smiled at me each time we made eye contact, which, though was a small gesture, made me feel a bit more relaxed.

Loki was sitting directly across from me. It was hard not to take glances at him, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes away. When I did look at him, it was like he knew I was going to, for each time I took a peek at his face, his striking green eyes were staring into mine. It was a heavy gaze, one hard to hold.

On my left, Thor seemed to sense I didn't want to talk, but ensured that I wasn't short of food or wine. He filled me in on amusing tales and old squabbles between everyone at the table, quietly under his breath to help get me up to speed. Sif pretty much ignored me, but not in a rude way. Very few questions were thrown my way.

When the meal ended and the party were retiring for the night, I stood up from my chair, hoping against hope that I wouldn't have to ask Thor to show me to my rooms again. I didn't have to. Loki volunteered.

"(Y/n), my brother has had the pleasure of most of your company, perhaps I can show you back to your rooms?" I gave a small nod and said ok, and he led me from the room. I was wary of Loki, considering he was, you know, the God of Mischief, but he made no attempts at even talking, let alone any trickery. He didn't offer me his arm, like Thor had, which I was grateful for.

We walked in silence, me slightly behind him. We reached my room in what seemed like an age and we stopped, unsure of what to do next.

"Well, uh, thank you. I still don't really know my way back," I said quietly.

"I saw. You didn't want to ask Thor for help, so I stepped in. Have a good night, (y/n)." He stepped away from me and began walking back in the direction we had come from.

"Goodnight," I whispered, and opened the door to my room. A servant had made my bed and lit candles while I was gone. The room looked pretty, everything soft in the candle light. I pulled the curtains closed over the glass doors to the balcony and changed from my clothes into the nightdress I had been in before. A white envelope lay on the seat on the armchair, my name written across it in beautiful handwriting.

Was everything on this god forsaken planet beautiful?

I picked up and opened it, pulling out the thin sheet of paper within. It read:

'Dear (y/n),

During your stay here, I thought you might feel more comfortable in clothing of our fashions, so as to blend in better with our people. I took the liberty of freeing our seamstress' timetable tomorrow afternoon so she can take your measurements. You may choose a variety of colours and cuts, no limitations. I hope that suits you.

If you ever need anything, or someone to talk to, I'm always here.

Yours truly,
Friga'

I slid the paper back into the envelope and left it on the chest of drawers. My heart warmed slightly at her words, which was something considering I was still in a bit of shock. It was nice to know someone would listen if I needed them to.

I blew out the candle and tiptoed towards the bed, stubbing my toe twice in the process. Hissing, I climbed into bed, and soon fell into a dreamless sleep.